Waste cans
Waste cans are tossed by the wind,
Their tinkle subsides, though it blows:
'I speak with a whispering voice,
I gently unfold your eyes
To spread out a new landscape,
Where I name plants and flowers,
I grant you solace in my palms, in peace,
My words, gestures and promise are clear:
Pass on my love to all mankind.'